The Ladies are Alright


Sleet and ice conceal the asphalt

Staining my pale pink ballet flats an ugly charcoal grey.

Girls, cradled by the arms of youth, scuffle by

Feet enclosed in grubby sheepskin boots

Toned thighs raw, red, cold.

Sleet and ice cover the frozen grass

Littering the indigo hem of my Seven jeans.

Women, vulnerable to the threat of time, totter by

Their cable knit leggings tucked tight

into tall saddle colored leather

Arches fallen, tired, worn.

Elderly ladies accepting of their etched faces walk by

Their sturdy, purposeful gait anchored in a warm, dry rubber boot.

Cold,  murky slush splashes beneath the soles of these spirited souls

Dry toes show up as wide coral smiles, teeth stained by coffee, cigarettes, life.

Elderly ladies keep splashing, smiling knowingly

Their thighs, warm, their arches, just fine.

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